


kindness is not an accident

by serafinapekkala



Series: kindness was not an accident [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Acts of Kindness, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Kindness, M/M, Orc Culture, Pre-Relationship, Solarpunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:35:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24248905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serafinapekkala/pseuds/serafinapekkala
Summary: The thing was that Jowel had the uncomfortable suspicion he was the cause of the orc's reckless behavior. First of all, it had coincidentally started when him and Zult had slept together for the first time, which was not a coincidence at all. And, second, Jowel was not blind. It was impossible to miss Zult grinning at him after each time he came out unscathed or wounded out of a battle.Still, Jowel needed to understand, and he needed to find a way to solve the problem. Stopping this relationship they had could have been an option if Jowel hadn't been an egoistical coward.
Relationships: Human/Orc, Original Male Human Character(s)/Original Male Orc Character(s)
Series: kindness was not an accident [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2096622
Comments: 4
Kudos: 29





	kindness is not an accident

**Author's Note:**

> One shot stand alone. Extra warnings in the notes, check them before reading if you fear there might be some triggers (slightly spoilerish). Also Sanni is a trans woman, in the longer story, but I didn't add the tag because it is not explicitly stated here.
> 
> English is not my first language, so I apologize for the possible (probable?) awkwardness.

Jowel touched the wall of ice in front of him, feeling its magic slowly bend and melt to his power. A wall of ice had been the best he could do, in the middle of the fight; an attempt to protect himself from the flying arrows, while thinking of the best course of action. Not that any further action had been needed.

He looked around the clearing. Sanni was scouting the green grass for the gun that the City hunter had managed to knock out of her hand. From the state of the bounty hunter at her feet, the elven woman had not needed a gun to stop him. 

On Jowel's left, his other companion was dragging the second bounty hunter's still body. Jowel could feel the alertness and worry slowly melt, as his ice was melting around him.

"I got you this," Zult's voice called him, before throwing the unconscious attacker at his feet, his crossbow snapped in half on the ground, a couple of feet away. 

"I was not aware we were collecting gifts for Jowel," Sanni commented, gun now safely in her hand. She smiled at it, putting it away after a far too long and lovingly gaze. Zult ignored her, chin pointing at the hunter, once again.

Jowel looked up at Zult, not sure what to do with the unconscious man. The hunter was dressed in simple clothes that had surely helped him blend in the villages outside the Outskirts. It looked like the orc had not even graced him with his sword, but had simply managed to hit him on the head. Jowel had no need to interrogate the hunter, or wait for him to wake up. He already knew who was sending people after them.

Zult probably expected him to kill the guy, or something equally gruesome. "Thanks," he offered. He was sure that killing one hunter would not stop the Senator from trying to get to Sanni. "You shouldn't have."

"Well," Zult started, but that was it. He didn't add anything more, he knelt by the bounty hunter's unconscious form, rummaging through his shirt until he could find the small satchel of money that the Senator had probably paid him with. He offered it up to Jowel.

"Oh boy," Sanni whispered, a couple of feet away, pocketing a similar pouch of money into her own bag. "I'll keep this one myself, if you don't mind," she declared, a twinge of humor in her elvish eyes.

"Thanks," Jowel repeated, taking the money, feeling the pouch stain his fingers with fresh blood. "Is he bleeding?" he wondered, confused. He had thought Zult hadn't had the time to take out the sword-

" _I_ am bleeding,"

 _For the Hero and all that she had accomplished_ , Jowel silently muttered to himself, looking down at him. One of the arrows must have grazed Zult's left arm because thick dark blood was slowly making its way down his sleeve.

This was the sixth time, in the past three weeks, that Zult had thrown himself at a various number of dangers (and thrown the usual danger against a wall or a rock) without caring much for the consequences. Trying to talk him into strategic planning hadn't really worked, and it had made Jowel wonder if the tales of orcish battle-lust were true, after all. Still, Zult never looked out of control, he simply seemed to enthusiastically throw himself at fights with a perfect clarity in mind. The only thing Jowel could do was trying to use his ice magic to erect enough walls to stop any danger coming his way, and sometimes stop the orc from jumping at the occasional thief or bounty hunter. Jowel wasn't so sure this was a viable solution as, a particularly unfortunate time, Zult had ended up knocking himself out against the barrier itself.

Jowel had felt guilty for days.

"I can see that you are bleeding," he remarked. He wanted to be angry, but at this point he was only worried. Zult was going to get himself killed one of these weeks.

Sanni walked up to them, her bag filled with what she had found on the two hunters' bodies. This time Zult had been too distracted to stop her from pawning away the guns of his victim. "Let's get going, then you can patch him up," she suggested, taking the backpack that Jowel had left on the ground, and throwing it at him.

Zult stood up again. He patted Sanni's shoulder awkwardly a couple of times, in a gesture he had probably learnt while living with other humans. "I heal quickly. You don't have to patch me up."

"Don't be silly," Jowel replied, like he always did. And Zult grinned at him, like he always did.

~

The thing was that Jowel had the uncomfortable suspicion _he_ was the cause of the orc's reckless behavior. First of all, it had coincidentally started when him and Zult had slept together for the first time, which was not a coincidence at all. And, second, Jowel was not blind. It was impossible to miss Zult grinning at him after each time he came out unscathed or wounded out of a battle.

Still, Jowel needed to _understand_ , and he needed to find a way to solve the problem. Stopping this _relationship_ they had could have been an option if Jowel hadn't been an egoistical coward.

Sanni had also offered her help. She didn't know much about orcs, so she had suggested to try with Jowel's favorite past time: reading. She had bought (stolen?) him some essays from the local book shops of the cities they had visited, always making sure they were in languages Zult didn't know or understand. During the previous days, Jowel had only had the time for some passing glance, but, now, boarding the train to the Outskirts would finally give him the chance to catch up on some of the reading.

Sanni had paid for a whole cabin (courtesy of the hunters' money) and, as always in the cities outside the Outskirts, no one had looked too suspiciously at the sight of a human, an elf and an orc traveling together. They only got a couple of "Hey, do you know that story about a human, an elf and an orc walking into a bar-" which had been promptly shut up by Zult snapping his teeth at the improvised comedian.

The cabin they had booked was spacious enough for three people. One side of the cabin had the nostalgic feeling of trains from other times, with only a long glass window looking out, the rest framed by red and rusty metal. Modern trains tended to fully surround their passengers with glass, to let them see the beautiful outside, but no one was too fond at looking at the outside in the Outskirts. A heavy red curtain divided the room, hiding behind the windowless small quarters with their bed. Red curtain, orange couches. What a horrible clash of colors.

Jowel sat on one of the two little orange couches, book in hand.

Zult, who was laying on the other one, turned his head and opened his red eyes to look at him, pupils turning into thin slits at the sudden light. He was too tall to fit on the whole couch, so he had dragged the small coffee table at the end of it, to rest his feet on. He was still wearing his traveling clothes, and he looked uncomfortably warm. Or maybe the minor infection from the shoulder wound had finally given him a fever. Jowel would have to check the bandage again.

"Why don't you go to bed?" he suggested, opening his book.

Zult ignored his question, eyes still on him. "What are you reading?"

Jowel raised the book, like an asshole, knowing Zult would not understand the elvish title.

"Why are you blushing?" the orc asked, squinting his eyes at him, and Jowel realized his cheeks were flushed. It was more shame, than embarrassment. He wasn't enjoying the trickery.

"It's just hot in here."

"I guess," Zult hummed, arching his neck a bit. Under the afternoon sun his grey skin looked almost warm brown. He grinned up at Jowel, and raised his arms in the mockery of a stretch, shirt riding up a little to show his belly.

Jowel almost threw his book at him, trying not to smile. They were sharing the cabin with Sanni, and he was trying to read and finally understand why Zult was so intent on getting himself killed. He didn't need distractions.

"Sleep a bit," he told him, instead, and he started reading.

He started with the introduction, but he soon found the writing style incredibly slow and pedantic. He was going to skip to the information he needed. There was no chapter about sex, but there was a chapter about friendship and one about courting, which made him feel a bit too full of himself.

The better part of an hour slowed by, without a peep from Zult, and Jowel found himself starting to grow more and more disconcerted at what he was reading. The book had a lot of brand new information. Almost ridiculous.

Maybe reading a 50 years old summary of orc culture written by an elf explorer had not been his smartest idea. The text had a lot to say about orcs exchanging humans' heads as token of affection or kidnapping possible lovers, leaving the reader with the uncomfortable feeling that the lovers always ended up mauled to death. Zult had yet to kidnap him and had never tried to even bite him. Most importantly, there was nothing about orcs needing to pay tributes in wounds and liters of blood. He wondered what kind of writing this Ginnala Silverplane would compose about humans.

"You're frowning at the elven words."

Jowel tried to school his expression back into a neutral plain and serene blank face. Zult was awake again and was now frowning at him.

"Just. Bad literature."

"You chose the bad literature over me." He sat up, kicking the table away. He wasn't pouting, he probably couldn't over his tusks, but it was close enough.

Jowel sighed, closing the book. "I sure did." Maybe he should just ask. Talking was the essence of community, his sister had always reminded him. "You know-" Before he could finish his sentence, Zult had stood up and snatched the tome away. Jowel made to stop him and grasped his wrist, but the orc pulled back, raising his arms, book in his hands.

Jowel let go of Zult's arm, they both knew Zult had height and muscles over him, so he decided to focus on frantically trying to recall if the book had any illustrations. Maybe not? Probably? "It's just a bad novel. A lady gets kidnapped and- she ends up in a castle, burns down a cathedral with a Blessed Tree inside, ends up getting killed." The story was painfully familiar, but he had yet to tell Zult about his incident with the Blessed Tree.

"Lady orc?" Zult asked, turning the open book towards him to show him the drawing of a couple of orcs looking at a human head. The caption said _"A token of love"_.

"Yes?"

"What's her name?"

Jowel tried to think of an orcish enough name, and his head came up blank. There hadn't been any orcs in the Citadel, or at his University. "Za- nnia?"

Zult growled at him, eyes flashing brighter. So, clearly, not an orcish name. "It's about. Orcs. You know, in general," he offered, and Zult turned to look at the book once more, as if trying to decipher the alien language or the gruesome picture.

"We don't eat humans," he declared, making an aborted movement with the book, as if meaning to give it back to Jowel, before thinking otherwise. "Is this what this is saying?" He sat beside him, throwing the book on the ground, dismissing it.

Jowel huffed, head falling against the back of the couch. He passed a hand over his face. This was why they all needed to sleep more. More sleep, less stupid decisions. "It is more about exchanging heads as gifts."

"I am not going to behead you." And as if to reiterate the point, Zult scooped back, putting Jowel at a solid arm length.

Hero be blessed, this was ridiculous. "Believe it or not, it's not about my possible demise that I am worried."

"I am not going to behead Sanni."

Jowel let out a sharp surprised laugh. As if Zult could.

"Or anyone," Zult continued, for good measure. "I never beheaded anyone. Did I ever give you any head?" He bared his teeth, tusks protruding more sharply, a barely contained threat when Jowel turned to him, an easy joke at the tip of his tongue. He wisely kept his joke in check.

"Alright, this is not about beheading people. This is about what happened yesterday and the week before, and the week _before that_." Jowel pointed at Zult's arm. "About that, and you throwing yourself at everything that might look dangerous enough."

"Should I apologize for helping you and Sanni get rid of murderers? Oh, I am _sorry_ , I didn't know you wanted to end up killed in a ditch."

Jowel was not turning this into a fight. He knew himself enough to know that he tended to have a flair for the dramatic, and fights always got the worst out of him. "I am sorry for trying to read that stupid book, instead of asking. I feel like an idiot."

Zult growled again. "An appropriate feeling." A pause. "Ask _me_ your question."

 _Here goes nothing_ , Jowel decided. His sister had valued honesty so much, Jowel could do this. 

"Are you being reckless to - you know. Offer me. Victories. To express your inclination towards- courting me?" Jowel stopped, tongue tied by how self important he sounded even at his ears. Zult snorted, and Jowel hid his face into his own hands. Zult had to think he was a buffoon with a ridiculously large ego.

"I am trying to keep you alive. I would mind if you died."

"Well, thanks," Jowel nodded, face still hidden, voice muffled by his hands. He could feel the hot warmth of shame creeping up his neck.

"Do you want me to offer you my victories? How can I do that?" And Jowel had to look up, because Zult had an earnest note in his voice. He was probably thinking humans courted by offering "victories" whatever that meant.

Jowel shook his head. "I appreciate you keeping me alive, but I want to keep you alive as well."

Zult hummed, closing his eyes, a clear sign that he had enough of the topic at hand. At least he hadn't openly laughed at Jowel's question.

"I like that you worry about me." Zult added, almost a murmur. He touched the bandage Jowel had put on his arm, as if it was a badge of honor. "You keep me alive. You are always kind."

~

Jowel had sat in the small communal area through the late evening, the light turning into a deep violet before the symbiotic fire-lights of the cabin had started to slowly awake to illuminate the room. Zult had fallen asleep again, this time sitting up beside Jowel, face still turned towards him. The train's movement was jostling him lightly and Jowel was keeping an eye on him, worried he would just end up falling on the floor or hitting the back of his head against the glass window.

The book had been forgotten, and it laid still abandoned on the ground. Glaring at it wasn't helping with the shame.

Sanni had returned a couple of hours before, tip toeing herself inside with a bunch of winnings that she had collected from the on board casino. She had frowned at the abandoned book and honored Jowel with a commiserating look, before sliding away to the bed bunks.

That hadn't helped with the shame either.

The train curved, slightly, and Zult slid back a bit more. Typical, Jowel sighted, tiredly, affectionately. He stood up to look for a pillow to put between Zult's head and the window, and when he came back Zult's eyes were wide open, pupil round and big in the faint light of the symbiotic fire-lights.

Jowel thought about throwing the pillow at him. He thought about telling him to sleep in a bed. He also knew Zult was squeezing himself on the small couch just because Jowel was there.

"How's the fever?"

Zult smiled.

 _Oh_.

Jowel had to be as obtuse as a shoe. How he had _never_ realized, he didn't know.

 _I like that you worry about me_. Hero be blessed, they were both quite obtuse. Jowel knew Zult wasn't a coward. The orc had never stopped to ponder about what could go wrong, especially when this confusing relationship between them had been involved. He had been the one to proposition him, to kiss him first. Jowel, instead, had gone out of his way to buy an elvish book about orcs to not have to actually take a first step or have, Hero prevent him, a _conversation_.

Jowel sat back down, putting the pillow behind his own head. He took Zult's arm, fingers at his wrist.

"How's the fever?" Zult asked him, this time.

Jowel hadn't been trying to feel his temperature, but then, this was the whole mess. They had sex, and they had to touch. And then Jowel patched Zult up, and he had to touch him, and for some strange convoluted way, Zult enjoyed the touch, the worry.

"You know..." Jowel started, stopping mid-sentence, before he could feel too condescending. Zult had never complained about this, things were as they were. The orc had never even probably realized. And Jowel had never _noticed_. He had wanted to touch him, he did want to touch him. He had only thought Zult preferred not to. "Lay back."

Zult raised his eyebrows, but he started to lay back against the cold window, before Jowel tugged on his arm. "This side."

"Sure," the orc commented, amused. He moved towards Jowel, letting him guide him till his head found a comfortable place on Jowel's lap, tusks grazing his shirt. "I am going to squish your legs."

Jowel had the suspicion Zult thought he was as frail as a vase of flowers, so he ignored the comment and moved to find a comfortable position without jostling Zult too much. Laying back a bit against the back of the couch, he returned his attention to Zult. He pressed his nose and then smoothed his forehead with his thumb when the orc frowned at him.

"Is this going to miraculously cure me of my fever?"

"I am just touching you. You have an interesting face."

Zult watched him, waiting, enduring Jowel tracing both his eyebrows, pressing against his cheekbones. He used both his hands to move Zult's head, touch his neck, feeling the way his short hair scraped his hands. If Zult felt uncomfortable, he did not give any indication. Jowel had no idea of what he was doing. He hadn't - had anyone, in a while. He used to have a girlfriend, in the City, before he had been exiled. They had cuddled together, listened to the rings of the cathedral. She had played with his hair. It had been nice, it had been as calm as a summer day.

Jowel felt Zult's eyelashes moving against the palm of his hands, blinking, then closing. This was nice too, he decided. He had missed this.


End file.
